Neighborhood.

[Soapy]

All of a sudden, he's Mr. Triple Double huh. Dejounte put in on you tho, won't lie.

talk to Dame about that, loc

Man talking about Esther like she gone to the upper room.

Best player on a terrible team. We don't respect that.

she might as well be

[Soapy]

The Good, The Bad and The Dollar Menu - Episode 19
The boot made a dull thud with each step, the Velcro straps tight enough to remind Keshawn it was there without being uncomfortable.

“I’m telling you,” Michael said, holding the training facility door open, his own limp barely noticeable anymore. "That airport ain’t never gonna see that many baddies."

Keshawn shifted his weight, testing the boot against the polished floor.

“We still have practice, bro,” Keshawn said.

“That shit ain’t about nothing,” Michael grinned, "Their ass thought they were doing something with three practices in four days? Bet, I’ll bring Miami to this motherfucker instead."

Keshawn couldn’t help but smile.

“I might go to Costco tonight and stock up,” Michael laughed.

"Nigga, please. Your next time at Costco will be your first time," Keshawn sucked his teeth, "When’s the last time you’ve gone grocery shopping? Like in person?"

"Motherfucker, I’ve been rich for a long time," Michael answered as they reached the junction where the hallway split, "But if you was a real snipper, you know Target is where they at."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, nigga," Keshawn scoffed as Michael headed towards the locker room while Keshawn slowly began walking towards the training room.

The room was emptier than Keshawn expected, just the head trainer, Walter, standing in front of his laptop.

"Good morning," Walter told him, his eyes still fixed on his monitor.

"Morning," Keshawn replied, sitting down on the examination table, "What’s the word, doc?"

Keshawn started unlacing the boot. A game or two. Maybe a week if it was bad. He’d likely miss the upcoming game against the Clippers which was nationally televised but the Lakers were two weeks away, a game he had highlighted since their last showdown.

“So the good news is it’s not broken,” Walter said, pulling up images on his tablet. “Nothing fractured, no structural damage beyond the sprain itself.”

“That’s good,” Keshawn said, the boot finally loose enough to slide off. His ankle looked normal, maybe slightly swollen, but nothing that screamed catastrophic.

“The bad news is it’s a high ankle sprain,” Walter continued, turning the tablet toward him. “Grade two, maybe pushing grade three. You can see here where the ligaments are—“

Keshawn looked at the screen, at the white and gray shapes that were supposed to be his ankle, but his brain wasn’t processing what he was seeing.

“—typically six to eight weeks for something like this, but given the severity and where we are in the season—“

Six to eight weeks. Keshawn did the math without meaning to. Eight weeks left in the season. Six to eight weeks recovery. The numbers didn’t work. They couldn’t work.

"Ed and Chauncey want to talk to you after this but I’ll be honest, kid, it’s the best decision right now."

Walter kept talking. His mouth moved, words came out, something about rehab protocols and treatment plans and how they’d monitor his progress. But Keshawn wasn’t hearing it anymore.

His season was over.

…

Trey sat at one of the bolted-down tables, his uniform wrinkled from the morning yard time, watching the door where visitors filed in one by one.

“Daddy!” Malc broke away from Charlene’s grip, running toward the table.

Trey stood, catching his son in a hug. The kid was getting bigger. Picking him up wasn’t so easy anymore.

“What’s good, little man?” Trey said, settling back into his chair with Malc practically climbing into his lap.

“We got a new house!” Malc announced. “And I got my own room!"

“Yeah?” Trey looked up at Charlene as she sat down across from him. “That right?”

“Yeah,” Charlene said, setting the bags down beside her chair. "I guess your cousin was in a giving mood."

“There’s a park next to our house,” Malc continued, his hands moving as he talked. “With a lot of kids. There’s this kid Brayden that let me play with his football even though I left mine at home because I forgot it and I thought that I had left it in the car but I didn’t."

Trey kept his eyes on Charlene.

“That’s real good, baby,” Trey said to Malc, but his words weren’t just for him. “You like it?”

Malc nodded.

Charlene shifted in her seat, her fingers playing with the strap of her purse. "How you holding up?"

Trey grunted out an answer that Charlene couldn’t make out. Neither could he, truth be told.

Malc was already moving on to something else, telling Trey about a cartoon he’d watched, ranking his best friends at school, about wanting to learn how to ride a bike for his birthday next year. Trey listened, nodding along, welcoming the momentary reprieve of the mundane grind that was to merely exist in a place like this.

Charlene started talking too. Small shit mostly. How Malc was doing in daycare. How her hours at work had picked up. Whether Vic was still seeing that girl or if they were done for real this time. About twenty minutes in, the conversations started trailing off like they usually did. Running out of things to talk about. Running out of time to talk about them. And yet not wanting it to end.

"I got something to talk to you about," Trey told Charlene, cutting her off.

Charlene nodded before looking at Malc, "Baby, why don’t you go get something from the vending machine? No candy."

"Why not?" Malc looked up, disappointment in his face.

"Because I said so," she said as she pulled out some cash she had earmarked for the occasion.

Malc took the bills and scrambled, already moving toward the vending machines in the corner of the room.

Charlene watched him go, making sure he was far enough away before turning back to Trey. Her arms crossed over her chest, her whole body language shifting into something defensive.

“What is it?"

“I need you to do something for me."

…

Jessica had the door open before Vic even knocked, her hair wet, towel wrapped around her neck like she’d stepped out of the shower just to greet him.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jessica said. “You’re early.”

"Blame Coach Hopkins."

"Who?"

Vic shook his head. "Never mind."

He stepped inside, noting the faint smell of dryer sheets in the air, the hum of the washer somewhere deep in the unit. Yesenia was already walking towards him, holding her hands out to be picked up.

"What’s up, baby girl?" Vic kissed her, "You ready for Dadda’s house?"

She nodded feverishly before Vic put her back down, quickly climbing back onto the couch to look at her tablet."

Jessica had moved towards the kitchen and Vic followed her there, leaning against the fridge as she wiped off the last remnants of their lunch. The conversation was mostly small talk, catching up like they usually did, neither in a hurry to part ways.

“He sounded okay yesterday,” Vic said. "I’m sure it sucks, his season ending like that."

"At least it doesn’t sound too serious," she offered, pouring herself a glass of water, "You want anything?"

Vic shook his head. "Yeah, he got lucky. Just doesn’t feel like it right now. I don’t know, I might head out for a few days, check in on him."

“Is he still with that girl?” Jessica asked, moving to the sink.

Vic shrugged. "Who knows?"

Jessica snorted. “Of course he isn’t."

Vic laughed. “Why you say it like that?"

“Because he’s a man,” Jessica scoffed.

Vic held up his hands, surrendering. “I’m in no position to judge.”

She looked at him then, her eyes narrowing a little, smile lingering. “No, you’re not.”

For a second the air in the apartment shifted, went heavy. Vic felt his neck get warm. He broke the stare, glancing down at the countertop.

“You ever regret it?” She asked, voice quiet. “Us?”

"Of course not," he looked into the living room, "Without us there’s no her."

"I mean besides that," she tilted her head, "You know? Just us?"

"No," he answered confidently, "You?"

"No. I just… I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if it was just a thing. Like, something to do because we were both bored. My best friend was fucking your cousin. Your cousin was fucking my best friend."

"Nah," Vic shook his head, "I don’t think it was just that. At least not for me."

Jessica studied him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “If that’s the case, how come you didn’t try to make it work when I got pregnant? Why’d you go running back to her?"

Vic looked down at the counter, tracing the lines on the granite with his finger.

“I’d spent so much time with Angela,” he finally said. “So much time trying to make that work. We were that couple, you know? Since forever. I think I just couldn’t accept that all of it was for nothing. I was hell-bent on making it work even though I shouldn’t have. I made the wrong decision, picked the wrong one."

Jessica didn’t respond right away. She just stood there, arms crossed, water glass forgotten on the counter beside her.

After a moment, she moved toward the living room. “Yesenia, time to go with Daddy.

[Captain Canada]

Look at this dog ass nigga - "I picked the wrong one"

Damn, Keshawn down for the season. Let's see how much trouble he about to get himself in

[Soapy]

Look at this dog ass nigga - "I picked the wrong one"

Damn, Keshawn down for the season. Let's see how much trouble he about to get himself in

[Caesar]

Keshawn about to knock a stripper up to complete his transformation into a true NBA player.

[Soapy]

Finals MVP G Shai Gilgeous-Alexander
Most Valuable Player C Nikola Jokic ‣ 30.8 PPG, 13.4 RPG, 7.7 APG, 1.6 SPG, 1.1 BPG, 56.3 FG%, 81 FT%, 40.7 3PT%
Rookie of the Year G Mikal Brown ‣ 16.4 PPG, 5.3 APG, 1.2 SPG, 40.1 FG%, 76 FT%, 32.3 FT%
Sixth Player of the Year G Egor Demin ‣ 14.5 PPG, 5.3 APG, 1.2 SPG, 41.6 FG%, 68.7 FT%, 28.2 3PT%
Defensive Player of the Year F Giannis Antetokounmpo ‣ 26.2 PPG, 11.7 RPG, 5.1 APG, 1.7 SPG, 1.7 BPG
Most Improved Player F Zaccharie Risachier ‣ 23.2 PPG (+6.2), 4.9 RPG (+1.6), 46 FG%, 69 FT%, 38 3PT%
Clutch Player of the Year G Trae Young ‣ 29.2 PPG, 6.9 APG, 1.0 SPG, 50.3 FG%, 45.7 3PT%
Coach of the Year HC Jason Kidd ‣ 63-19 record, 2nd West
Executive of the Year GM Zachary Staples ‣ 58-24 record, 1st West

All-NBA 1st Team
C Nikola Jokic
G Luka Doncic
G Shai Gilgeous-Alexander
F Giannis Antetokounmpo
G Cade Cunningham

All-NBA 2nd Team F Evan Mobley (CLE), F Paolo Banchero (ORL), G Trae Young (LAC), G Ja Morant (MEM), C Domantas Sabonis (SAC)
All-NBA 3rd Team F Jalen Williams (OKC), C Alperen Sengun (HOU), F Anthony Davis (DAL), G LaMelo Ball (CHA), G Jamal Murray (DEN)
All-Defensive 1st Team F Giannis Antetokounmpo (MIL), F Evan Mobley (CLE), G Amen Thompson (HOU), C Nicolas Claxton (BKN), F Ausar Thompson (BKN)
All-Defensive 2nd Team C Nikola Jokic (DEN), C Isaiah Jackson (PHX), C Walker Kessler (UTA), F Jalen Williams (OKC), C Robert Williams III (SAC)
All-Rookie 1st Team G Mikal Brown (WAS), F Cameron Boozer (CHA), F A.J. Dybantsa (CHA), G Dash Daniels (MIA), F Caleb Wilson (DEN)
All-Rookie 2nd Team F Nate Ament (PHX), G Darrin Peterson (OKC), F Noa Kouakou-Heugue (BOS), G Alijah Arenas (UTA), G Brayden Burrell (SAS)

[Soapy]

Keshawn about to knock a stripper up to complete his transformation into a true NBA player.

[Soapy]

Editor's Note
I know some people might be following along with just box scores so wanted to drop an update signifying the end of the season given Keshawn's season-ending injury. For the narrative readers, the timeline hasn't jumped. The ensuing updates will take place immediately after the injury. Wanted to clear up any potential confusion with the upcoming timelines.

Go Blazers.

[Captain Canada]

My boy got booted out of those trophy considerations with that injury

[Soapy]

My boy got booted out of those trophy considerations with that injury

MIP was ours bro smh